I’ve worn many identities in the past thirty-two years. I have been the chatty child and the quiet question. I am under construction at the moment. My past exists in experiences like:
Her name was Agatha. Agatha was raised in the midwest. She was poor with a small family who sold cherries when they were in season. Agatha went door to door late into the night asking people to buy her cherries. She was exceptionally beautiful for her age. Her hair was…
We were at a K-Mart. The cardboard box was filled with kittens. My mom caved over the sound of meows. A dark-gray almost black cat looked up at me. He was sweet and now he was mine. We took him home with the understanding that he would live on the…
Wish I was what you first saw
A sweet, happy, smile
Who laughs under twilight
Sings to the trees
Erase the history
Wipe it away
You’d know the woman
Dressed in fabricated faith
Wear the shiny presence
Inside, a gaping hole
No hug or kiss can change
Old story smoke
This question shuffles through me as I read articles about polyamory, pornography, narcissistic abuse, and divorce. I sit on the couch with my fingertips caressing the f and j keys with great hope I will write an article that bears importance. …
My Dad: The way I see it you got two choices, you can either move out or not go to your prom next week.
Randall: I’m out then, that’s not fair. It’s prom. Nikilia is expecting me, I have my tux.
My Dad: Make your choice.
Randall’s plea seared the…
She was a smart cookie and always was. When we were in high school, she learned calculus on a computer. At the time, that wasn’t normal. In 2005, dial-up internet was still a thing and online learning was not. Her name was Hailey. Hailey’s mom skipped town when she was…